Cultural Difference
by CanaanAlshea
Summary: Yoko Explains His Percieved Eating Disorder To His Friends...


CULTURAL DIFFERENCE  
Yoko_cw

**Summary: Yoko Explains His Percieved Eating Disorder To His Friends.**

_Warning for mentions of eating disorders (shocking eh?) and some of my own odd ideas. This could or could not go along with my story Dying To Be Thin; it's an interesting idea and wanted to write it out. I hope you like it! Please don't leave spam or bashing in reviews._  
_-Yoko_

*Yoko POV* _(please read Author's note at the end ^^)_  
They were staring; of course they were, didn't they always. We sat cross legged in the dining area of Genkai's temple, each of us bearing different marks from the earlier battle. In the back of my mind, Suichi slept, recovered; he'd slipped into a bit of a coma early on in the fight after a nasty wound to the head. I had no idea of how he was doing and I wasn't sure if I particularly cared. I didn't know if he felt it too; the eyes, that is. Behind us, the sun sunk downward in a hazy color of blood. And before us sat a large array of foods that Keiko and Shizuru and brought, and Yukina and I had earlier prepared and frozen.

They were staring.

Perhaps it was because of the fact that they were not used to the 'demon side' of Suichi to be there to socialize; they were used to seeing me fight and then vanish within my host. Or perhaps I was eating a little too messily. I paused; no there was nothing on me, my clothes; my hands were relatively clean despite the bloodied meat I had earlier consumed. "...What?" My voice was a tad more irritated than I had intended but, damn I hated being stared at without reason.

"Nothin' man," the redheaded oaf spoke hesitantly, as though I would rip the flesh from his bones if his tone were incorrect (who knows, maybe I would under more tense circumstances) "We're...just..."

"Not used to seeing you eat," Hiei clarified bluntly. I smirked, sipped black tea and passed a bowl of rice to Yukina, who was not unusually quiet. "Oh?" I let the blood soak into my tongue, "Is this, perhaps, because you've never really seen me outside of an arena?" Another long pause. Idiots. Genkai simply mixed spices into her rice. The stares did not stop.

I watched them aswell, the differences in mannerisms. Kuwabarra ate swiftly but not as messily as one may guess by his loud behaviour. Yusuke switched back and forth between dishes, had a tendency to chew with his mouth open, talking before swallowing. He had several paper napkins scattered about. Hiei...ate as one would expect. His eyes were downward, taking small but quick bites of only the things he liked. Normal for each, I suppose.

"Well," the small demon piped up, "It's also that and your build. One wouldn't expect you to be so ravenous. Even considering our earlier exertion, it's surprising you're able to consume so much in a small amount of time." I couldn't help but laugh at that; the whole aspect of not being able to eat just seemed silly.

*Scene*  
I excused myself, quietly setting my tableware into a large basin and telling Yukina I would help clean later. She smiled, told me not to worry. To sit and relax; how unchanged she was despite the years that were going by. How one could still be so considerate after knowing all of us I didn't know. I smiled, keeping my fangs hidden for reasons I didn't quiet understand, and laid my hand on her shoulder in a silent form of appreciation. She uttered no sound and gave a small nod before ushering me back into the house.

They all still sat about the table on large cushins, traditional of this area, after having taking their things into the kitchen. They had no worries, and for that, I smiled. Even Hiei was joining in on the jovial atmosphere, in his own sarcastic way. "Well at least you didn't get struck by lightning this time," he elbowed Yusuke, and recieved a light knuckle rap to the head for the jesting. I shook my head, suddenly feeling old.

The hallway was familiar, though I had never been down it. I relied on Suichi's memory for this sort of thing. Within the relatively spacious bathroom, there was a sink, and a toilet. Both were surprisingly of a modern western design, seeming out of place in the forested region where one wouldn't even expect running water. I tied my hair back with a ribbon that had always been in my pocket, and looked at myself for a moment in the mirror. Dark circles beneath my eyes, slightly chapped lips, my hair was even slightly tangled. I was suddenly embarassed for not having seen myself before walking into a social event. I was getting lazy. I shook my head again, willed my muscles to cooperate. The sound echoed unnervingly. ...So I turned the water on.

*Scene*  
Eyes again. Pairs of eyes undiscreetly followed me around the room as I came back to my seat in the den.

"This is getting ridiculous. Either say something to me or kindly keep your eyes in your heads." My own eyes narrowed, my ears twitching in annoyance; a little thing I could never control.

"...We could just...um..." Yusuke began intellegently, running his thumb over his bruised knuckles, "Hear you in there." My eyebrow raised, and I took a moment to think what he meant. What, in the restroom? How on earth could he have heard me all the way out here?

"You must have been listening intently then," I grinned, "Am I really that fascinating to you, Urameshi?" He swallowed, his left shoulder rising in a half-hearted shrug. "You really should see a doctor about that," Keiko said softly, raising her fingers below her lips in a nervous habit. I suddenly felt cornered, my ears moved back, my spine and tail bristled in an instinctual reaction. She said something about therapists; she was muttering. This too, I found annoying.

I laughed despite this, "What are you talking about?"

"You're...what bulimic, anorexic? What's up with this whole throwing up deal?" Kuwabarra, ever blunt, spoke too loudly for the little room. I paused...

...and despite my irritation, found myself laughing a little bit. "Is that what this tension is about? You think I have a human ailment?" Oh, that was gold. I tapped my index nail, which was growing too long, against the polished wood floor, flicked my tail slightly and easily. "Ridiculous!"

"You know, even for demons, that's not exactly normal, Kitsune," my Koorime friend raised his eyebrow at me, "And I'm taking it this isn't new, either?" I laughed again, leaned my head against the wall and wondered if I should even bother explaining. I decided to; it would be easier than letting them fidget around me and I didn't know how my human would take so much attention being brought to something so obviously alien to his friends. "No. No it's not widely accepted even in the Demon Realm," I flicked a lock of hair over my shoulder, "But the kitsune are a rather isolated breed; this, I see, makes us strange in more ways than one." I sighed, "Bulimic, you called it Yusuke? It's called Expelling, actually, and it's widely traditional."

"...What kind of sick tradition is that?" Again, my redheaded friend spoke without thinking first. Glaring, I let him know that I would not take kindly to insults to my kin.

(1)  
I explained an aspect of vanity, and of practicality, involved in the ritual I had just completed. We're little fucked in the head, I admitted that but it wasn't unusual.

...My earliest memories were of my mother in front of a mirror. I had inhereted her white hair, pale skin; her eyes were blue. ...And she was thin. Everyone was bony, toned, or trim; I didn't even know of body fat until I left the temples (2). "You know, Kurama," she explained when I was a bit older than a toddler, "You can never redo a first impression. Always look your very best, even if it takes a little extra time." She dragged her claw along my forhead to tuck my elongating bangs along the sides of my face. I nodded, smiled in understanding.

I brushed her hair and counted the vertabrate along her neck. We rarely ate; home grown fruits and rices, mostly. Some raw meats if we could find them. I let her hair fall like silk through my fingers. I looked at them, saw that they were long, thin. I also kept my hair long; it was an unspoken tradition. And I too counted my ribs at night, brushed my hair and kept my face clean of cuts and blemishes.

I always looked my best at home. Silk tunics with intricate designs. We ate very little, though alcohol was consumed in large amounts on a regular basis. Tea and water had to be restocked often. White rice was a staple food. I learned to live off very little, and thanks to that, I was beautiful. Just like my mother, my sisters. We were a family of malnurished, though somehow aesthetically pleasing, porcelain dolls.

The feast was harder to explain; it occurred once a month, and the reasons behind it were never explained to me personally. Red meat, wine, fruits and vegetables in heavy syrups. All of us, an array of different colored skin and hair, would eat without speaking. And, in sequence, we would walk to a deep basin and vomit; it was deep enough that the contents could not be seen, thank god. One night of an endless routine of eating and vomiting. And when the sun rose, it was back to eating six grains of rice and a cup of strong black coffee.

Yusuke blinked, and I shrugged my shoulders. "Is that enough explaination?"

Hiei voiced concern, "It's a little...sick though, don't you think?"

"If I may also voice my concerns," I responded quietly, "I am often disgusted by the sheer amount of foods you humans eat. That, my friends, could also be called sick. To indulge ones self needlessly, eating in excess when you can survive on so little..."

I sat for a moment, looking at my human friends; their split ends, dry skin, wrinkles, nails bit down to the skin. I imagined what my mother would think upon their first impressions, and it brought a smile to my face. At their silence, I shrugged and smiled.

"Cultural differences, one could say..."

_A/N and Explaination/to this story: I'm sure all of my readers know my story Dying To Be Thin and my reasons for writing it. I am currently in recovery and the thought crossed my mind of how to write Kurama's recovery. And while this is not related to this story exactly, I thought of something I heard in reference to purging: "The Romans had the right idea; stuff to the gills and push reject." And of course, in today's society, this is seen as disordered thinking. Though Yoko Kurama's past is not explained, many of us who write him in stories often view him as vain, self centered, beautiful, and somewhat arrogent. I think that this is true with his species. I assume that there are others who look like him, but of different colored hair and such. So this is an experimental writing of that side of Kurama. I warn you now there is very little in introduction... forgive the long note._

_(1) I didn't want to write this in narration. I figured it would get annoying... And not all the details would be mentioned in his telling, obviously; they were purely for a better picture ^^  
(2) Where did the temple idea come from? ...Really my own head. I sort of see Yoko as living only with eachother, as I think they're arrogence and viewing themselves as more intellegent and worthy would lead them to coexist only with eachother. I see him living in a temple in a forested mountain region..._


End file.
